Laura's Story
by batmanfan
Summary: The whole movie through Laura Chapman's eyes. Includes deleted scenes because they were never in the movie, because they happened to Laura, not Sam or any other character. R&R!
1. The Study Session

**Hey guys! This is my Laura's Story Fanfic and keep in mind I do not own any of the The Day After Tomorrow characters. Read & Review on your way out!**

The apartment was hot, smelling of plants, and dirty laundry, as Brian, Sam and I stepped inside. "No way Peterson's class is harder the Kline's." Brian was saying. "Fourteen people in her class took the AP exam.' I protested. Brian frowned. "Yeah, but how many passed?" he asked skeptically.

I chuckled; setting my book bag down on an armchair, that was littered with National Geographic. "Where's your dad?" I asked Sam casually, who had set his bag down on the kitchen counter and was munching on a cracker. "Who knows? Off somewhere saving the world."

"Does he know you come here when he's out of town?"

Sam's head poked up from behind the refrigerator door. "Oh, yeah." He said, grabbing a glass of water. "I'm watering his plants for him." I nodded slowly. "Oh."

I looked down at the plants, whose leaves and branches were brown, dry and cracked. I touched one gently. It crumbled in my hand. It looked like they hadn't been watered in days, even weeks.  
"You've got quite the green thumb." I said sarcastically, but Sam didn't seem to notice. Sam bustled over, glass in hand, and poured half of the glass on one plant, and emptied the glass on the other. The plants were o filled with water, mud oozed down the side of the pot. My mouth dropped open.

"I think you're over watering them." Brian said, staring at Sam as if he had two heads. Sam looked up. "You think?" he asked. "Never mind." Brian said quickly. "Uh, where are we supposed to sit?" I unzipped my jacket as Sam cleared a space on the couch for Brian.

"Right there's good for you."

Then we had to get to work. "OK, so I think we should start with English lit, then tackle art." Sam had turned on the television, and he had lost interest in what I was saying. "Sam?" I whispered. Sam looked up as if just noticing I was there. "Hi." Sam grinned. "Hi." "You can't watch TV and study at the same time." I said sternly. "New York is in four days."

Sam sighed. "OK," he mumbled, switching the television off. "It's off. Quiz mania!"

This time I was the one who sighed. I could tell this was going to be a difficult study session.

* * *

After three hours of studying, I was getting tired and frustrated, and Sam was just not comprehending the information I was giving him. Oh, he was great in Math and History, but when it came to English Lit, and Art, he was lost. 

Finally, I gave up. "OK, we'll meet in the empty classroom on the second floor, and study there after school." I grabbed my bag off the chair, and Brian did the same. "Bye Sam." We both said in unison. "Bye guys. See ya tomorrow." He waved, and the door shut.

For the first time in two months, I was beginning to doubt whether we'd win the competition.


	2. The Girl, The Boy & The Jacket

"I'm home!" I shouted. No reply. I guessed that they weren't home, as their car wasn't in the driveway, and they weren't usually home when I was. My mother was a successful doctor, and my father was a lawyer. I hardly ever saw my parents.

Sometimes I wondered if they loved me. Sometimes I wondered if they even wanted me, and at one point I thought about running away from home. The one thing I was good for was showing off. When I was younger, my parents would take me to fancy dinner parties, and show me off to their doctor and lawyer friends, boasting about my IQ, my grades, and my overall intelligence.

Until one day I refused to play along. I was sick of being just a trophy to them, but still I worked hard for my grades, joined teams like the Scholastic Decathlon, and studied, unlike some of the kids of my parent's friends.

I started up the stairs, dragging my body, which had become very heavy, and found myself at the entrance to my bedroom. Bending down, I grabbed my English Literature textbook, and opened it. Flopping down on my bed, I studied, a "why bother?" crossing my mind.

I was so tired though. After a few minutes, exhaustion won over studying, and I fell asleep.

* * *

"Honey?" 

I jerked awake, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I could see my mother standing over me, but I couldn't see her face. I groped for the lamp, and turned it on, sitting up.

"What's wrong?"

My mother frowned. "You're friend Sam... Hail?" "Hall." I corrected her. "Yes, you left your jacket at his house, and he dropped it off. He's downstairs." Now I was awake.

"He's downstairs?" I squeaked. Sam Hal was at _my_ house! Pushing past my parents, I flew down the staircase, and almost ran into him. "Oh! Thanks Sam." I said smiling.

He had blue eyes.

* * *

After Sam left, I went back into my room, closing the door softly. Laying on my bed, I thought, if I had one wish, it would be for Sam to like me, to have on ounce of feeling for me. Deep down, I had a feeling that was one wish that wasn't going to be coming true anytime soon. 


	3. Journey To The Airport

Before I knew it, the four days that had gone by so agonizingly slow were done, and after I'd kissed my parents goodbye, I found myself on the curb, waiting for the cab my mother had called.

Sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk, I jammed my fists in my pockets, pulling out a burnt, crumbling pop tart that I had stuck in the toaster last minute. BI broke off a partially charred corner, and stuffed it into my mouth.

The sweet raspberry jam filled my mouth, and the warmth spread across my numb body, easing the cold. I looked around the deserted street, wondering where in the heck that cab was.

I broke off another corner of my breakfast, this time my mind rolling the decathlon facts over. I was getting thirsty, but I had thought of everything. I grabbed an icy water bottle from my bag, and twisted the plastic cap off of it, taking a long gratifying sip.

The cold was horrible, a bitter wind sweeping over my body, numbing the exposed pieces of skin. I shivered, looking around. I thought about going back inside, but decided against it.

Hearing he sound of tires, gravel crunching beneath them, I looked up to see the cab barreling down the pathway. Standing up, I grabbed for my bag, and threw open the door.

After telling the driver my destination, I leaned into the cushy seat, and fell asleep.

"Hey!"

I awoke with a start, my head snapping every which way, as the voice rang out in my ears. "Hey you!" The cab had stopped, and the driver looked like he wanted to smack me. "I be sitting here while you take a snooze on my backseat! We are here at the airport." The driver cried in a heavy Indian accent.

I blushed. "Oh, sorry." I slid out, and the driver shoved my bag into my arms. I could hear him muttering in anger as he got into the cab, and sped off. I don't think he realized I didn't pay him.

Hurrying inside before the cab driver got back, I bumped into Brian. "Hey, have you seen Sam?" I shook my head. I hadn't seen Sam since that Tuesday night when he'd dropped off my jacket.

"Let's go, maybe he's already at the gate." Brian and I rushed through security, and ran for the flight's gate. There was Sam, dozing in a chair, right next to a garbage bin. I laughed, seeing him drooling.

"Sam! Man, wake up! We're gonna be late!" Brian shouted, shaking him.


	4. The Plane Ride

The Plane was silent.

You could hear a pin drop, and silence was even more distracting then noise.

I sat in seat 36b, nestled between Sam and Brian, and that was nerve racking too. I tried to keep my eyes focused on my English Literature textbook, but I kept glancing up at Sam, who I could tell was nervous, as he stuffed fistful after fistful of peanuts into his mouth.

After the fifth packet and third handful, I couldn't help myself.

"You alright?" I asked, smiling warmly, trying to get him to relax.

Sam mumbled something around a mouthful of peanuts and nodded.

"He's afraid of flying." Brian said causally, glancing up briefly from his portable laptop.

Sam Frowned. "I'm fine." He said stiffly, jamming more peanuts into his mouth.

#bing#

I looked up, and so did Sam. The "fasten seat belt" sign lit up to a dull orange color, as the aircraft shuddered.

Brian finally looked up, and said, "You know statistically, the chance of a plane going down because of turbulence is less then one in a billion." Brian adjusted his coke bottle glasses and continued. "Or is it a million?"

I looked over at Sam, whose green complexion had changed to paper white. Oblivious, Brian was still rambling on. "I can't remember if it's---" I interrupted him, fearing Sam might hurl right there on the spot.

"Shut up Brian."

A flash of lightening illuminated the cabin.

"Sam, don't pay attention to him OK? Everything's fine."

I observed a flight attendant five rows back, offering a man a drink. "They're still serving drinks." I offered reassuringly. Sam nodded slowly, some color returning to his cheeks.

At that moment, a different attendant bustled past us, and tapped the serving flight attendant on the shoulder. Whispering something in her ear, the woman hurried past us again, and I watched as she strapped herself to a pull out seat.

The plane shuddered again.

#bing#

The captain came over the intercom. "Folks, it appears we're going to have a little bit of a bumpy ride here for the next few minutes. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts and put your tray tables and seat backs in their upright positions until we get through this. Thank you."

The intercom clicked off as the plane lurched down and shuddered once again.

I turned my head just in time to see the serving cart short past our seats. I gasped as I realized that the flight attendant that sat on the pull out seat was directly in it's path.

I watched with wide fearful eyes as the woman franticly clawed at her belt. Finally freeing herself, she jumped up, and flattened herself against the door of the bathroom stall. Just as the cart smashed into the wall, spraying soda and liquor onto the floor of the cabin.

As the aircraft and my stomach plummeted downward, Sam blindly grabbed onto anything he could find. He happened to find my hand, gripping the armrest tightly. I looked up, watching Sam's body tense, his hand squeezing mine until my circulation was cut off and my arm went numb.

The jet jerked violently, duffel bags and suitcases exploding from the overhead compartments. An aquamarine handbag with fake yellow flowers sewn on the front collided with my head, as a brown leather satchel fell into Sam's lap.

And then as soon as it started, it stopped.

My breath short, my body trembling, I looked down where Sa was still clutching my hand. "Sam." I whispered. Sam's body was rigid, and his face was contorted into fear and pain. He didn't seem to hear me.

"Sam." I said a little louder. He looked at me, his eyes glazed over, his mouth half open. "Can I have my hand back?" I asked, smiling as he snapped out of his trance. He looked down at our hands, which were entwined together, my fingers red. He removed his pale hand, and I flexed my fingers, trying to get the blood back into my hand.

Sheepishly, Sam chuckled, as the oxygen masks fell from their compartments, dangling in front of our faces.

I decided right then and there that this was my last plane ride.


	5. The Decathlon

Stepping into the terminal, I couldn't help but sigh.

The ride from Washington to New York had been a rough one, and the only good thing about it was being next to Sam.

Now, Sam stood beside me on the curb, trying to hail a cab to get us to Pinehurst Academy, looking very dapper in his brown leather jacket, a blue and red hooded sweatshirt and freshly ironed black jeans.

It was just starting to drizzle when a taxi finally pulled over and a middle-aged black man got out and stuffed our luggage into the trunk. Sam went around to the right side, and I ultimately ended up in between Sam and Brian again.

"Where to?" the man asked, twisting his head around to look at us. "Um, Pinehurst Academy. It's---" "Yeah, I know where it is." The driver grumbled, stepping on the gas.

Staring out the window, I watched as the Manhattan traffic began to thicken, until finally we halted on some godforsaken street, wedged in between another taxi and a rusted out Cadillac.

I pulled up my sleeve to look at my wristwatch. We were already five minutes late, and I hoped they hadn't started the meet already. I leaned forward.

"Excuse me sir. We're really late."

"We're almost there." He muttered, taking a long drag on his cigar. I coughed from the fumes, until I heard Brian say, "We're only two blocks away." I watched him trace the route on the map with his finger.

"Let's walk." Sam said, opening the door and sliding out. I was eager to get out, the cigar smoke choking me. Popping the trunk open was easy enough, and Brian handed me my leather bag, and Sam's bag as well.

As I maneuvered my way to the other side of the cab, I noticed Sam staring skyward. Following his gaze, beyond the tops of the skyscrapers were birds. Hundreds of thousands of birds, screaming and shrieking through the cloudy gray New York sky.

That's odd, I thought, stepping up onto the sidewalk, almost being knocked to the ground by a woman with a cell phone glued to her ear and a briefcase in her tanned and manicured finger-nailed hand.

"Excuse me." I muttered sarcastically, placing my bag on the pavement. Sa and Brian joined me moments later after arguing with the cab driver that wanted to charge $47.88. But there were more important matter to deal with.

We were fifteen minutes late for the meet.

* * *

"In 1532, Spanish Conquistador Francisco Pizzaro defeated this Incan Emperor at the Peruvian Highland of Kihamarka. What is his name?" The judge read off a small index card. 

The Assistant judge set the timer for one minute, as Brian leaned in. "Montezuma?" he asked hopefully. "No, no. Montezuma was in Mexico. It's like Anta... something." I concluded, glancing around at the other teams.

One of the teams had finished already as the seconds ticked away. Sam, who had contributed very little, and had been very quiet spoke. "Attawapa?" "That's it!" I whispered, franticly scribbling the name on a blank slip of paper.

A thin, bespectacled man took the paper, and nodded curtly to the judge. "That's five points for Woodmont and five points for Pinehurst Academy."

I grinned, positively glowing. My eyes wandered across the gym, and stopped on a boy my age, staring at me. He nodded, smiling. I flushed, and looked down at the new paper the Assistant judge had placed in front of me.

"Next question." The judge said. "In what year did Louis Catores ascend to the throne of France?"

* * *

Spotting Brian and Sam through the throng of students, I made my way across the dance floor, a glass of Ginger Ale clutched in my hand. 

"Hey!"

Sam and Brian both looked up, and I could see their eyes looking me up and down. "Hey. You look beautiful." Sam said, I could tell he was being honest.

At first I thought borrowing this black velvet dress from my mother's closet was a bad idea, but that one compliment Sam Hall gave me made it all worth it.

"Thanks." I hoped he couldn't tell I was blushing. I changed the subject. "This place is incredible. Do you believe that this is their cafeteria?"

"You played a great first round." A voice said from behind.

Spinning around, I came face to face with the boy that had nodded at me in the gym. He was very handsome. Dark brown hair, strong cheekbones, muscular build, and big brown eyes that you could lose yourself in.

But he just wasn't my type, I thought, staring into his eyes. I did manage to sneak a quick glance at Sam, hoping I'd catch a reaction. But sadly nothing, just his usual smile, and his blue eyes that I wanted to get lost in.

"So did you." I tried to be conversational, when all I wanted to do was dance with Sam, his warm, strong arms wrapped around me, and to have this boy leave.

Either way, he was nice.

"These are my teammates: Sam and Brian." I motioned to each of them. "I'm Laura." I extended my hand, and he took it in a graceful gesture, shaking it politely. "J.D." he said.

"You're school is amazing." I gushed, gazing up at the cathedral ceiling, and the elegant carvings in the walls.

"Would you... would you like a tour?" J.D. asked.

Again, I looked at Sam. Our eyes locked together for the briefest moment, I felt as if we were the only two people left on Earth. Breaking the moment, I looked away.

"Sure."

I turned back to Sam. "Could you hold this for a sec?" I asked holding out my drink. For a moment, I thought he might say no, but then that familiar smile was back, and he said, "Yeah, sure."

With J.D. leading the way, we threaded our way through the crowd, toward the entrance of the cafeteria. I glanced over my shoulder and our eyes met once again; and I wished that Sam would suddenly have the strong desire to come after me, to keep me for himself.

But I looked away again, nodding politely at J.D., who had said something apparently witty, as he laughed at his own cleverness. I laughed with him, unsure of what he'd said.

I decided that now was not the time to attempt to sort out my feelings for Sam as I followed J.D. out of the crowded cafeteria and into the hallway. I had wanted to see something in his eyes when J.D. had offered to give me the tour, something that said that he didn't want me to go off with him, something that said that my feelings were returned. But there had been nothing, just the same old blue-eyed Sam Hall stare that I had fallen in love with the second I had seen him.

J.D. said something to me about the room we had entered and I felt guilty that I hadn't really heard what he had said. It wasn't J.D.'s fault that I was unattractive to Sam; the least I could do was pay attention to him. Instead of asking him to repeat what he had said, I just nodded my head and let my eyes sweep across the room we had entered.

This room was undoubtedly the common room, with numerous couches pressed against the walls and in the middle of the room, which were currently being lounged on students whose days hadn't been interrupted by the Decathlon meet.

J.D. waved to a group of guys sitting on one of the couches and they raised their hands to return the greeting; one of them smiled at J.D. and winked, looking over at me. Suddenly, I felt vulnerable and exposed in the dress that I had borrowed from my mother's closet. Sam had never made me feel like that and I had the urge to go back into the cafeteria and forget all about the tour. But what would that accomplish? Nothing at all and so I turned to look at J.D. "Who are they?" I questioned, hoping that ignoring J.D's apparent friends would take some of the color out of my cheeks.

"Nobody." J.D. told me, taking me by the arm and pulling me out of the common room. I slipped my arm out of his grasp and looked away when he looked at me questioningly.

Before J.D. could say anything, I repeated, "Your school is amazing." I felt like an idiot, but I wasn't in the mood to explain why I had pulled away from him. I wasn't in the mood to explain that I was a lovesick teenage girl, pinning away for the boy that didn't see me as anything but a teammate.

"Yeah." J.D. agreed, off-handedly, somewhat bored. He saw the same hallways and the same ceiling beams everyday, so it was interesting to see how someone else responded to the architecture. "This is Winston Hall." He explained, though I think he doubted whether I cared. "It's the math hallway."

My eyes roamed across the sweeping oak ceiling beams and the painted portraits of people that I didn't recognize. Founders of the school, no doubt. "This place makes my school look like a real dump." I remarked.

"It can't be that bad." J.D. said as he led me through the math hallway and into another corridor that was empty. "I'm sure it has a lot of history." Some little part of me wondered if he was a jock, or would be a jock if he went to a regular public school. He was the kind of boy that struck me as a ladies man.

I rolled my eyes. "History, right. Only in the classrooms." I told him, noticing that J.D. had stepped a little closer to me. So, I stepped closer to the wall. "So, which hall is this?" I questioned in an attempt to distract him from whatever thoughts were going through his head.

"Uh..." I could tell J.D. didn't really care where we were anymore. "This is where they teach calculus." He said, leaning closer to me.

Thinking about calculus reminded me of Sam and I was once again reminded of what an idiot I was. Was I going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Sam whenever someone mentioned calculus, or school, or...anything. Taking my thoughts away from Sam was the fact that J.D. was edging closer toward me and the fact that I had promptly backed myself against the wall trying to edge away from him.

"I like calculus." I told J.D. quickly, anything to keep him from doing what I thought he was about to. "That's my best class and-"

Before I could finish my meaningless sentence, J.D. had closed the distance between us and was kissing me before I even realized what was happening. With a muffled cry of surprise, I attempted to pull away from him but there was still that damn wall keeping me in place. That, and J.D.'s arms, which had wrapped themselves around my shoulders.

Finally, I managed to push J.D. off of me, trying to figure out if I should be outraged or shocked. I was a little bit of both, but, in the end, embarrassment won over and I felt my cheeks flush; the first thing I thought of was Sam, even though it wasn't as though I had any commitment to him. But if he had happened to arrive at that moment and see them kissing...well, my being kissed, then I would never even have the chance to try and explain how I felt about him.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, anger creeping into my words. I looked at J.D. with confusion on my face, keeping myself against the wall in an attempt to keep as much distance between us as possible. "What-?" I didn't know what to say.

J.D. looked at me with surprise, as though he hadn't been the one doing the kissing. "But I..." He was at loss for words I could see, and I knew that being rejected by a girl was probably a rare occurrence for him. "I just thought..." Once again, he was at loss for words, or thought. Maybe he thought I'd welcome him with open arms, and I expect that he wasn't attended being pushed. He probably thought I was one of those girls who could barely lift her textbooks. He probably thought I was a cutesy damsel in distress, but I was not. I could take care of myself.

I just shook my head, unable to form a sentence that wasn't crueler then anything I had ever said in my life. So, instead of snapping at J.D., who I wanted to believe had meant well, I just kept shaking my head.

"You like Sam, don't you?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I felt my cheeks flush once more, just as they always did whenever any one mentioned Sam around me. Shortly after I had transferred to Woodmont High from Boston, I had been sitting in Lit class with a group of girls who had decided that discussing boys was more efficient then doing their group project. One of the girls had mentioned Sam and my cheeks had instantly turned tomato red, giving the rest of my group members something to laugh and talk about for the next fifteen minutes.

J.D. smiled slightly when my cheeks reddened and I know he knew that a verbal answer wasn't necessary to confirm his suspicions. "I'm sorry, Laura." He apologized somewhat sincerely. He wasn't completely sincere because he didn't take back having kissed me. "If I had known then I wouldn't have done that."

I waved my hand somewhat dismissively. "It's all right." I mumbled, though I wasn't quite sure it was. I had always imagined that my first kiss would be with someone that I really liked; but it wasn't as though anyone needed to know that had been my first kiss.

"No, I feel like an ass." J.D. mumbled. "Let me make it up to you."

I shook her head, starting back toward the cafeteria with J.D. in tow. "Don't worry about it." I assured him, wishing that the entire moment were over. I just wanted to be back with Sam and Brian and Decathlon related subjects. At least that was something I knew how to handle.

"Then at least let me offer you some advice." J.D. pressed, walking beside me down the hallway. I looked over at him; more intrigued then anything about what that advice might be. "Tell Sam how you feel. Trust me, guys are pretty dense when it comes to that stuff."

I sighed and forced the redness from my cheeks. "Yeah." I mumbled noncommittally. I knew that I could never tell Sam how I felt about him and unless he suddenly expressed some unknown desire to be with me, my feelings would remain private.

I decided right then that that was the curse of being smart. Because the smart girls, never got the guys.


	6. Tommy's Demise

Sauntering back into the cafeteria, I scanned the room for Brian and Sam. After a moment or two of searching, I saw them, standing at the refreshment table, in deep conversation with one of the male students of Pinehurst.

"There they are." J.D. pointed, ushering me through the sea of students. "They're talking with Lenny." J.D. made a path for me, and I squeezed through until I stood in front of them.

"Hey Laura." Sam said, handing me my drink back. "This is Lenny." Brian introduced me to a longhaired boy, with glasses. "Lenny, this is Laura." "It's nice to meet you." I shook his hand, and shortly after that, Lenny excused himself, and I watched him disappear into the crowd.

"He was nice." I commented, trying to break the silence. There were murmurs of "yeah" and "very nice" between Sam, Brian and J.D.

"May I have your attention please?"

The judge of the meet stood on a small stage in the front of the cafeteria, a microphone in his hand.

"There has been a terrible tragedy. We ask that you dress in your normal attire, and meet in the rec room, for further instruction."

A little confused, I waved goodbye to my teammates, and went back into the room I shared with a blonde haired bimbo named Shelby. I threw on a pink sweater, and ripped jeans, and met with Brian in the rec room. Sam joined us a few seconds later.

The television was already on, a newscaster on the screen, talking about something going on in California. I had an Uncle that lived in Los Angeles that I visited once or twice a year.

"And for our National Audience just joining us now, we are going live to Downtown Los Angeles right now. Tommy?"

The screen cut to a man standing on some street in LA, and right behind him, about two blocks away, was an actual tornado, ripping a house to shreds.

Over the roar of the twister, Tommy managed to shout, "If you look overt there behind me there's a tornado! Yes a twister in Los Angeles!"

The camera panned back to the tornado. "It's one of many tornados that are destroying our city. There's another one just along the Los Angeles skyline!" The cameraman turned, and there was a massive twister, the black funnel swallowing a skyscraper whole, blackness taking up half the TV screen.

Tommy continued. "It's unbelievable! It's huge! I've never seen anything like it. It looks like some sort of huge, horrific, terrifying nightmare, only thins is the real thing---"

"TOMMY!"

There was a shout from off camera, and just like that, Tommy was gone. I watched in horror as a billboard bigger the Tommy broke loose from a building, and smashed into him. Even over the screaming of the wind, you could hear every bone in his body shatter in one sickening sound.

The screen cut back to the same woman newscaster, who as apparently in a state of shock.

"What you're seeing is what's left of Downtown Los Angeles." They showed an aerial view of the wrecked city, the buildings falling apart, and streets torn up. Brian who had been missing for five minutes, walked back into the room.

"Um, excuse me you guys I'm really sorry, but we need to change the channel." There was an instant uproar as Brian switched the channel to a different new station.

There, they talked of how the President had suspended all air traffic. "Unfortunately, the order came to late for two planes that were brought down by sever turbulence in the Midwest."

I did hear Sam say grimly, "So much for one in a billion."


	7. The Wall Of Water

To top the afternoon off, the head of Pinehurst announced that we would have to evacuate the school, as the excessive amounts of rain backed up the sewage and now in some of the dorms, including the one I shared with Shelby was flooded with rainwater.

"We will be finding suitable living accommodations for our guests with Pinehurst students here in New York City." A few grumbles came from the Pinehurst students, but they had no option.

"Hey," J.D. said, pulling a long black wool coat over his uniform. "You guys can stay at my place for a while." "Really?" I asked. Even thought I was a little angry with J.D., I was grateful for meeting him, and for him being so kind to the guys and me.

"Yeah, sure. It's no problem." J.D. picked up his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. "You can stay for as long as you like." I saw Sam emerging from the phone booth, and as he approached I said, "Hey Sam, guess what?" I asked. "Looks like we got a place to stay!" I said motioning toward J.D.'s direction.

I could tell Sam was somewhat displeased. But he smiled. "Great."

"Come on guys, let's go." J.D. held the door open for me like a gentleman, as I piled my hair on top of my head, and jammed my head into my hat. Stepping out into the rain, I buttoned my coat, and followed J.D. to a Rolls Royce with a gray haired man standing in front of it.

"Good evening, Mr. White." J.D. grinned. "Hey Victor, these are my friends, Sam, Brian and Laura." Victor smiled, and ushered us into the warmth of the vehicle.

This time, I sat on the edge, Sam beside me, J.D next to Sam, and Brian up front. I stared out the window, as the bead of rain streamed down the window in a bizarre pattern.

* * *

"I want to take you guys somewhere first." J.D. had said. So now, they stood inside New York's Natural History Museum. J.D. had taken us to each and every exhibit, and I thought that was very kind of him. 

"Hey, thanks for bringing us here." I said honestly. "I couldn't let you leave New York without seeing the Natural History Museum." "Of course not, it's the world's finest collection of stuffed animals." Sam grumbled, as Brian stopped at an exhibit of a Woolly Mammoth.

'Hey guys, check this out." Brian beckoned us over, and began to read from the plaque on the glass window. "The body of this Mammoth was found perfectly preserved in the Artic Tundra. It was found with food still in its mouth and stomach, suggesting it froze instantly while grazing." I shivered. What a horrible way to die.

* * *

J.D.'s apartment wasn't far. 

The car pulled up in front of a chic building, with a fancy green and white awning, complete with a doorman standing out front.

"Good evening sir!" the doorman said, holding out an umbrella. "Hey Hugh! Victor, I'll see you in the morning!" "Right sir." With that, the Rolls drove of, and we followed J.D. inside.

* * *

The apartment was on the top floor. 

Taking the elevator, we arrived up at the penthouse in less then four minutes. Groping for his key, J.D. unlocked the door, and led us into the grandest apartment I'd ever seen.

"You LIVE here?" I asked disbelieving. "Just on the weekends. It's my Dad's, but he's kinda never around." "Where is he?" I asked, staring at the rows of pictures on the mantel. "Skiing in Europe with my Step mom." I nodded, picking up one of the photographs.

In the picture was J.D., on a bike, next to a young boy of eight. "Is this your brother?" "Yeah, that's when we took a bike trip together." I smiled. J.D. must love his brother, I thought. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

I looked up to see Brian and Sam at the window. I heard Brian say something, but I couldn't make it out. Something about rain.

* * *

I sat on J.D.'s sofa, my eyes glued to the television set. "It's a mob scene here at Grand Central Station. Over half the platforms are flooded and service has been suspended on all trains. With planes still grounded and trains now out of service, that's bad news for countless commuters ---" 

J.D. interrupted the newscaster. "Victor's coming to pick me up. Do you guys want a ride to the train station?" Brian snorted, motioning toward the TV. "Not anymore." The newscaster came back on, this time, a man. In Nova Scotia earlier today, the ocean rose by twenty-five feet in a mater of seconds. What we have feared for the past few days has indeed happened. The cold front moving down from the Artic has created an enormous storm system over Canada, which incredible as it sounds looks more and more like a tropical hurricane."

"Well, I gotta pick up my little brother, do you guys want me to give you a ride?" "Where is he?" I asked, my eyes never leaving the screen. "He's in a boarding school is Philadelphia."

The newscaster had continued on: "If this system moved south, we could see a wind driven storm surge that could threaten the entire Eastern seaboard."

With a clap of thunder, and a flash of lightening, the power went out.

* * *

"Victor's stuck in traffic over on Fifth Avenue. It'll be easier to get out of town if we just meet him over there." J.D. said, striding out the door, and to the elevator, as the lights around us flickered. "Walk? No, not in this." Brian said defiantly. The lights flickered and this time they went out. 

We stood in the dark hallway. "We should take the stairs." Sam said, picking up his bag, and heading for the stairs. "But we're on the top floor." J.D protested. I paused, and then followed Sam.

The building wasn't that tall to begin with, and it only took us ten minutes to get to the lobby. Piling my hair on top of my head again, I put on my hat, buttoned my coat, and stepped outside into the storm.

The water was hubcap level now, and it was slowly rising. Standing under the safety of the awning, I turned to Sam. "Maybe we should just stay here." I didn't think it was safe to be driving in this kind of weather, and the car probably wouldn't get to far when the water was rising the way it was. I guessed if the water rose at it's same rate in twenty minutes, any car would be completely submerged.

"I think the young lady is right sir." Hugh said nodding. "No, we have to get home." Sam said, and began walking.

* * *

J.D.'s phone finally lost power. "Hello?" he shouted into the phone. "I can't reach my driver!" 

By the time we made it to Fifth Avenue, J.D.'s phone finally lost power. "Hello?" he shouted into the phone. "I can't reach my driver!" At that moment we all looked like lost drowned rats. My coat and hat were useless, the rainwater soaking right through the fabric. My nerves were pushed, I was cold, I was wet, and I was finished.

"This is insane!" I yelled over the pounding of the rain. "We're not going to be able to drive anywhere in this, we should just go back to your apartment!" Brian must have felt the same way, because he quickly agreed. "Yeah, I vote for that." Sam didn't go for my idea.

"What are you kidding?" he cried, pressing on. "We have to get higher!" I was about to protest when he said, "To the library!" The library was not far away, so I gave in, and followed them through the water, which had now risen swiftly up to my waist.

I struggled to keep up, but with my bag, umbrella, and the water dripping off my body, it was a difficult task. Finally, I stuck my wrecked umbrella into a nearby trash bin, lightening my load.

Through the sheets of rain, I could see the vague silhouette of the Manhattan Public Library. Mentally sighing with relief, I trailed behind the group, squeezing between two rusted out taxicabs. Suddenly, a searing white-hot pain shot up my leg, and I cried out, jerking my leg away.

"The door's jammed!" a voice behind me screamed.

I twisted my head around to look, but rainwater hanging onto her eyelashes made it hard to see. I gritted my teeth, and dragged myself toward the screaming. Swiping at my eyes, I saw a girl no older then ten pressed up against the window of an almost completely submerged taxicab, screaming, sobbing hysterically. Her mother was behind her, doing the same.

I could hear him screaming at them to be calm, but it was almost impossible to make out his exact words. I knew for sure that the mother and daughter did not speak English, and from what I could make out, they were speaking French.

I remembered that I took French for four years in grade school, and I knew the basics, so pulling myself over to the panicked officer, I hoped I could help him.

"What's the problem?" I shouted, glancing over at the cab with its passengers in peril. "They're speaking some different language!" "It sounds like French." I said, and leaned in. "Parlez-vous français?" "oui" the woman shouted back, pulling the girl; away from the glass.

"You speak French well?" I nodded, and leaned in toward the window. "Just tell them to calm down." I did as I was told. "Calme vers le bas." I could tell the man was impressed when, like magic, the woman pulled her daughter away from the window, and looked up at me with wide, frightened eyes.

"Tell them to cover their eyes!" The officer brandished his nightstick as I leaned in again. "Couvrez vos yeux!" "Ok, fin votre miel d'yeux." OK, close your eyes honey, I heard the mother say to her daughter. Raising the nightstick, the officer brought it down atop the rear window, shattering the glass.

"Can you grab the girl?" the officer asked. I nodded, as the mother lifted her child through the busted window. I tried to be cheerful. "Quel est votre nom?" What's your name? I asked in French. "Jacqlene." The girl whispered, clinging to me tightly.

Three minutes later, the officer carried the child through the water, through the traffic, the mother and I in tow. Suddenly, the mother spun around, pointing at the cab, screaming wildly, "Mon sac! Mon sac! Nos passeports notre intérieur!" My bag! My bag! Our passports are inside! I nodded, trying to calm her.

"What's the problem?" the officer asked. "She left her bag in the cab. Their passports." I said, and then speaking in French, I told the woman I'd go get her bag. "J'obtiendrai votre sac." "Tell her to forget about it!" the officer shouted. "I'll get it for her!" I yelled, as the man continued toward the library.

Wading through the icy water, I hoisted myself up onto the trunk of the cab. Flopping onto my stomach, my hand groped blindly for any sign of the purse. In the distance, I could hear a low rumbling, and some little part of me noticed that the noise around me escalated. But all I had on my mind was retrieving the purse.

My fingertips brushed leather. Stretching my arm to its fullest extent, I carefully curled my pinky finger around the strap, and pulled. Drawing the purse through the window, something clamped down on my arm.

Shifting myself onto my knees, I looked down. "Laura!" I saw Sam splashing through the water, finally grabbing my arm, tugging me toward him. "What's wrong?" I questioned, clutching the purse tightly in my gloved hand.

"Laura!" he shouted again, pointing at something behind me. Twisting my head around, I saw it, climbing up Fifth, marching past Lord & Taylor's and the only thought that managed to penetrate my frozen brain was "run!"

"Come! Come on! GO!" I heard Sam scream, and I couldn't move until he hauled me off the trunk of the cab, and then I was running, Sam behind me, the safety of the library ahead of me. Through my fear I couldn't help thinking that Sam must have an ounce of feeling towards me, or else he would have just stood rooted to safety, watching the water take me.

I glanced back, the wave gaining strength and speed, Sam doing the same. Then all at once, he was right beside me, holding my hand, urging me on, up the slippery stone steps of the Manhattan Public Library.

Once, he slipped, but I grabbed him by the arm, looking back in horror, as the wave was not but one block away, but then we were racing for the revolving door, as the wave swept up the steps after us. Sam shoved me forward. Stumbling, I fell into the door, and was ejected out the other side, Brian and J.D. catching me in their arms.

Sam staggered out backwards, and I grabbed him, just as the wave struck the building with a powerful impact. Then, Brian and J.D. beside me, Sam behind, we rushed up the stone staircase, the water breaking through the stained glass windows, while a taxicab muscled its way through the doors, propelled by the murky death.

**AuthorsNote: This was my favorite scene in the film, so therefor, this was my favorite chapter to write about. Please R&R when you're done!**


	8. The Phone Call

After what seemed like an eternity, the water had settled, and Mother Nature had calmed. Hundreds of people had flocked to the library seeking shelter, including Sam, Brian, J.D. and myself.

J.D. was still trying to get his cell phone to work. He was persistent. I'd give him that.

I looked up at Sam. "Listen. Thanks for coming back for me. It was really brave."

Sam just smiled, and I felt my cheeks grow hot. I looked down. I noticed the leather bag that had almost cost me my life. "I guess I'd better return her bag."

We shared a smile, after all that we'd been through together. Rising, I walked across the room to where the mother and daughter sat.

I kneeled down. "Here's your bag and passports." I whispered in French. "Voici votre sac et passeports."

The woman looked up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. She thanked me in French over and over, until I bid her goodbye.

Standing up, I saw Sam talking with a librarian. "Excuse me. Are there any pay phones on the upper floors?" The woman shook her head. "No, no. But there are some on the mezzanine." Sam quickly thanked her. "Oh! But I believe it's under... water!" She called after him.

"Where are you going? The power's out!" I followed him. "Older pay phones draw their power directly from the line." He said matter-of-factly.

* * *

Sweeping down a dark, deserted staircase, the sound of rushing water could be heard. Sam had handed me a flashlight, telling me to shine when he said. I nodded slowly.

At the bottom of the staircase, I shined the light on a row of pay phones, about to go under. "Are you sure about this? I asked uneasily.

Wading out into the water, Sam paddled over to the phones. Jamming a quarter into the slot, Sam shouted, "It works!" After a moment, Sam shouted, "Dad!"

A pause.

"We're at the public library."

Another pause.

"Can you call Laura and Brian's parents and tell them we're alright?"

The water crawled up my legs, as I wondered if my parents would even care. If they even missed me. Suddenly, I watched as Sam lost his grip, and slipped beneath the waters.

"Sam? Sam?" I cried, flashing my light, the beam bouncing off the walls. I gasped as Sam emerged, choking and sputtering.

The water had risen up past my waist, and I called Sam's name again. "What should we do?" I heard him say into the receiver.

That was the last I heard him say.

I couldn't see him anymore, the water rising toward the archway. "Sam! Sam come back!" I screamed franticly, as the water rose up over the arch, and was left standing alone in the stairwell, the silence maddening.

My flashlight was still pointed at where Sam had once been.

I stood staring at the water, waiting for the moment where Sam would rise up. But it never came. Deep down, I knew he was gone. And I could feel my heart breaking.

But then I saw him. Gasping, crying, I reached out and pulled him toward me, the flashlight dropping with a clatter, dragging him up onto the marble.

I was sobbing. "I thought you drowned." I hugged him, as he lay shivering, trembling, dying. But then it hit me as I watched him suffer. "Let's find some dry clothes for you." He murmured a soft "yeah," as I helped him to his feet.

* * *

Hauling up the staircase and into the lost and found section of the library was easier said then done, his body so numb with cold, he was just dead weight. I paused briefly, trying to remember what Mr. Donovan had said in Health Class.

"Take off your clothes." I ordered, and surprisingly he did it willingly, dropping his pants, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Sam stood shivering in his boxers when I returned, coats piled in my arms. Throwing off my own coat, and wrapping a fresh one around him, I came up to him, and held onto him tightly.

His bare back and chest felt like ice. "Whoa! What are you doing?" Sam trembled if my arms. "I'm using my body heat to warm you. If we let the blood from your arms and legs rush back to your heart to quickly...," my voice cracked. "...your heart could fail."

Sam was silent.

"Where did you learn that?" he questioned. I smiled. "Some us were actually paying attention in Health class." I laughed into his shoulder. "Are you feeling better?" I asked, looking up into his eyes. Sam nodded, or he shivered. I couldn't tell. "Much better."

If I made it out of here alive, I would have to remember to thank Mr. Donovan for teaching Health Class, for teaching me. Or else I don't think I would be wrapped up in Sam Hall's arms without him.


	9. A Cargo Ship

Once Sam was restored to his normal state, he suggested that we take everything from the lost and found and pass it amongst the people of the library. To try to help them stay warm.

Grabbing as many coats as possible, we rushed back and the officer from the day before took over. Sam and I went back for the rest.

It was on my second trip that I noticed a small yellow radio lying discarded on the floor among the items of the lost and found. Bending over, I picked it up and turned it over in my hands several times. I pressed the button marked for power.

Nothing.

I studied it briefly, before tucking it safely into my pant pocket. It didn't seem to work.

* * *

"Is that the last of it?" the officer asked, draping a brown leather jacket over the shoulders of a young woman. Groping for the radio, I pulled it from my pocket. "Yeah pretty much. We also found this radio, but I don't think it works." 

Brian came up and snatched the device from my hand. "Let me see." He studied it carefully, poking it with his index finger.

A dog behind me let out a shrill howl that echoed through the hall.

After the tenth or twelfth whine, people began to give the animal's owner, an old African American bum, dirty looks.

I heard him hiss, "Keep quiet! You're not supposed to be in here anyway!" But over the sound of the dog's barking, there was another noise, drifting over the buildings, being carried with the snow. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

People on the upper floor had moved to the windows, staring out through the frosted panes.

All at once, Sam's hand was in mine, and he was leading me and the other civilians out onto a small ledge that over looked the library's foyer, where snow had dusted the ice.

We all stood there clustered together, waiting for something it seemed would never come. I gripped the plaid blanket, that I had 0around my shoulders, tightly, my knuckles growing white.

Outside something black and metallic moved past the busted windows, crawling through the unfrozen waters.

The dog barked again.

"Come on guys."

Eardrums pounding, heart racing wildly, I ran behind Sam, my sneakers squealing as I moved swiftly across the tiled floor. Up ahead Sam froze and I did too along with J.D. and Brian.

There we sat on the windowsill staring out at the massive cargo ship, floating down Fifth Avenue, and then crossing over to sixth. The ship slowed to a stop, and sat still as a stone statue.

That was something you didn't see everyday.

**_Author's note: Sorry this took so long, but I've been xmas shopping, and preparing for this holiday. Also, I've been writing a new fanfic that's more difficult then I thought it was going to be. Sorry for the shortness of this chappy. All my chapters are quite short, so I'll have to figure out a way to lengthen them. But this will be difficult as in this portion of the film, Laura is unconsious for a few scenes, unless I do a dream sequence... Keep cheking back!_**


End file.
